The Irish standard., 1887-10-01
SALLY CAvANACH;; ;;

BosS ~s1 ~ -
THE UNTEhAhTED GRAVES.
A TALE OF TIPPERAR
BY CHARLES J. KICKHAM.
The child of peasant yet England's PROUD
Has les rank in her heart and less grace in he,
Shawn Cow swung the bottle round
his head and flung it with all his
strength against the hob. The whole
fireplace was for moment one blaze
of Light.
The devil was in i'd says the smith
smiling grimly; an there he's off in a
flash of fire. I'm done wild him, any
way
We'll, wish you a happy Christm as,
Nancy said Sally.
L wish you the same, Sally, an a
great manv of 'em. 1 suppose you're
goin' to first Mass? Shawn and me I'll
wait for second
Sally took her leave of this remarka-
BILE couple, and proceeded on her Way
to the village. Shemet Tim Croak an d
his wife, Betty, who were also going to
first Mass. After the usual interchan ge
of greetings. Betty surveyed Sally from
head to foot with a look of delighted
wonder.
Look at her, Tim,' she exclaimed,
AM isn't she as young an as hearty as
ever? Bad cess to me, but you're the
same Sally that danced wud the master
at my weddin' next Thursday fortnight
I'll be eleven years.
'Begob, you're great woman says
Tim.
The allusion to the master was not
pleasant to Sally Cavanagh, and to
avoid further reference to the disagree
able subject, she described the scene
she had witnessed at the blacksmith's.
But, Tim,' said she. after finishing
her story, how did the dispute about the
blackbird come first? I heard some
thing about it, but 1 forget it,
'I'll tell you that, then said Tim.
'Begob ave. he exclaimed abruptly,
after thinking for moment, twas this
day seven years, for all the wor]d,-the
the year o. the hard frast. Shawn Cow
set crib in his haggert the evenin'
afore; an when he went out in the
mornin' he had hen blackbird. He
put the goulogue on her neck, am tuck
her in his hand; an wud one smullock
av his finger, knocked the life out av
her; he walked in an threw the black.
bird on the table.
oh Shawn, siz Nancy, you're after
ketchen' fine thrish.' Nancy took the
bird in her hand an began rubbin' the
feathers on her breast. "A fine thrish,
siz Nancy.
'Tisn't thrish, but blackbird,' siz
Shawn.
sWlsha, in troth, Shawn siz Nancy,
'tis a thrish; do you want to take the
sight o. my eyes from me?'
Il tell you 'tis blackbird,' siz he.
Indeed then it isn't, but a thrish,
says she.
Any way, one word borrowed an
other; and the end av it was, Shawn
failed at her an gev her the father ay
a batin'.
The Christmas day afther, Nancy
opened the dour an looked out,
God be wud this day twelve months, ,
siz she, do you reminder the fine thrish
you caught in the crib?'
Twas blackbird, siz Shawn.
whist now, Shawn, twas a thrlsh,
siz Nancy.
Il tell you agin twas a blackbird, ,
siz Shawn.
'Och,' siz Nancy, beginin' 10 laugh,
that was the quare blackbird.' Wud
that, one word borrowed another. an
Shawn stood up an gev her the father
av a batin.' The third Christmas day
KEN, and they wor in the best O. good
humor after the tay, and Shaw puttin'
on his ridin' coat to go to Mass. Well,
Shawn siz Nancy, I'm tl,inkin av
what an unhappy Christmas mornin'
we had this day twelve months, all on
account of that thrish you caught in
the crib, bad cess to her.
'rwas a blackbird,' siz Shawn.
Wish, good look to you, an don't be
talkin' foolish, siz Nancy; 'an' you're
betther not get into a passion agin,
Il on account av an ould thrish. My